


Time palace

by ShadowSelene (Shadowdianne)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-11-02 00:48:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20564897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowdianne/pseuds/ShadowSelene
Summary: A last prompt: Emma's the Day, Regina's the Night. Make of it what you want (they're taking turns dying to let the other live? they loathe each other? do winter and summer play a role?)Asked by the amazing fancyfanstuff back at tumblr





	Time palace

**Author's Note:**

> Well guys, we are coming to a close, by the end of the day I'll stop being a sq fic writer as I explained a few months ago. It's a bittersweet feeling to be honest. I'll be posting chapters of my wips throughout the month but since we are also with the supernova I'm guessing those will get slightly lost. Nevertheless, it doesn't matter when you read this a/n: hope you all are taking care of yourselves. VIVA LA SWAN QUEEN.

The cogs of the clock trembled as they ticked time away; the stars embedded in the metallic pattern that covered its entrails getting brighter as sunset approached. As orange mist began to color the dome that covered the highest part of the time palace, Emma entered into the sancta-sanctorum of time, fingers dripping gold and dirty silver in thick rivulets that floated away like mercury the second she took another new step towards the very base of the giant clock, constellations already shinning, curving around the clepsydra that rested at the very bottom, the reflection of the insides of the dome tinting the water in pinks and purples as time kept its advances.

The blonde goddess sighed while approaching the water, tiredness coiling around her neck as she stretched her back and shoulders, two cups appearing next to her hands when she finally curved her fingers, power ebbing away. Smiling, she reached for the one in the left, the flavor of chocolate and cream hitting her palate as she peered into her own reflection; green eyes sparkled with the gold of afternoon memories. At her back, the room shifted as it changed itself from bright and bold to subdued tones of mauve and washed-away black.

She remembered the first time she had opened her eyes in front of the vessel, the symbols etched on its sides ones she found herself following with the aid of yet clumsy fingertips, the burning sensation around her neck the one that had made her look down, at where a pendant rested against skin that she could vaguely realize was hers. It had felt hot to the touch when she had picked it up so she could inspect it but that hadn’t deterred her; pain being trampled by the curiosity that, even today, kept her as the Day, the Lady of Morning.

At that time, the clepsydra had been the only clock around, the dribbling of water a welcome sound in the middle of the silence. The cogs of the clock had appeared later, much much later, as an answer to something that seemed similar to “progress”. At least, she thought now as she took a second gulp of her drink, her will the one that kept the second cup in place, placidly waiting, that’s what the Author had told her, had told them both.

Ink and parchment, that had never changed and so the blonde turned to look at the hundredths upon hundredths of stories and recollections that had began to fill the palace by the time she had realized she wasn’t alone in the construction made out of glass and stone in a wrinkle where time could be reached but never touched. She remembered some of the memories the parchments spoke about and she had forgotten some already even if she made the point of not doing it so and, precisely because of that, she gave her back to the water clock, reaching for one she remembered she had seen been half-read the moment she had opened her eyes this morning.

Smiling slightly, the blonde chuckled as she put the parchment next to the clock once more; a silent invitation for it to continue to be read as she took the last few sips of her drink, the orange and purple of the water beginning to shift.

Time was, after all, unstoppable.

Glancing down at what had become to be something she couldn’t imagine herself without, she grasped the pendant, the chain around her neck tight as she did so. The metal was colder now than it had been that first time, frost and snow beginning to form at the edges of the swan motif that, with its wings extended, dug into her flesh.

She had wondered what would happen if she decided to not pay the price time asked her to pay, if she fought against the Author’s figure that, from time to time, came to collect the memories they compilated in the forms of memories and dreams. She had wondered more times than she would ever be able to count if she would ever take the pendant and put it away from her, from them, yet she knew she would never go against it, not when the idea of stopping the clock forever could potentially become deadly.

She closed her hand around the swan until a droplet of ichor trickled down her hand, the serene surface of the water trembling as it fell and lost itself into the liquid. It was time.

Bending by the waist, getting closer to the clepsydra, Emma stole one last glance to the second cup, the one that would hold coffee rather than cocoa, the one her mind kept stationary as it was, after all, a rebellious move; one that shouldn’t exist while she was still awake.

A second passed.

Lips touching the surface of the water, the blonde let out a sigh as she kissed what was beyond the water, the barely-there vibration of another touch making her open her eyes as green turned to brown, as pale skin darkened, gold transforming into the reddish burgundy of sleepless nights.

_“Good night, my love.”_

Regina moved away from the clepsydra, her hand still wrapped around the swan’s wings that, closed now, waited for the ritual to begin anew once more. The clock above hadn’t changed, the constellations high now on its body as they began its journey towards the very bottom once again, the pinks and golds of dawn the ones that now glowed where they had been mere minutes before.

Picking up the coffee cup Emma had readied for her, Regina smiled softly at the parchment the blonde had left for her, movements slow as her kingdom rose and yawned and stretched around her. Coming to life.

One day, she thought as she pressed her lips together, the ghost of a kiss scorching skin that was yet too new, too raw, one day they would both stop time.

One day,


End file.
